The Flawed Protagonist

By Tess Collins

First published in Byline Magazine, Feb. 2001.
Tess Collins
is the author of
Law of Revenge,
The Law of the Dead,
two plays: TOSSING MONTE
and BARBARIANS, and has published articles on
writing for Byline Magazine
and The Writer.
Miss Collins is a member of
Sisters In Crime and Mystery
Writers of America and received a B.A. from the
University of Kentucky and a
Ph.D. from The Union Institute.

Ancient Greek stories are full of
characters whose fatal flaw brings
about their downfall-the arrogance of Oedipus,
the ambition of Jason, and
don't forget Achilles and his heel. Modern
fiction offers the anti-hero. In
Billy Wilder's 1950 classic film Sunset
Boulevard, we can't help but hope
that Joe Gillis escapes the decaying mansion of
aging movie star Norma
Desmond even though we know in the first scene
he's been shot and killed.
Despite his cynical attitude Joe is likable
because we see him trying so
hard to reclaim his life from Desmond's
manipulative games. He attempts to
redeem himself as a screenwriter and a human
being. Yet he will not succeed.
Joe is inherently flawed. He has been beaten up
by the studio system. He is
tired, doubtful of his own talent and has lost
his passion. Hollywood has
scarred him and now affects every decision he
makes.

Joe Gillis's actions are not always
admirable. When he is dared to
change, he rebukes his love interest; when
called on to act, he refuses.
Gillis doesn't rise to the heroic challenge,
but his flaws are what makes
the movie's plot play out as it does. A less
vulnerable hero would have made
different decisions and there would have been
no story. It is the hero's
flaw that bonds the character to certain
actions.

Every flawed hero needn't be an anti-hero
but they are related. While
all heroes live by their own rules, the
anti-hero is more likely to cross
moral lines. The flawed protagonist may try to
live by society's rules, yet
simply can't because of some hidden secret or
because of something that
happened which changed their outlook on life.
Typically, this event occurred
in the past, prior to the story's beginning.
Robert Rodate's screenplay The
Patriot begins with the words of his
protagonist Benjamin Martin: "I have
long feared that my sins would return to visit
me and the cost is more than
I can bear." On the eve of the American
Revolution Martin declines to take
part in the fight even though he's a hero of
the French and Indian War.
Other men think he's a coward. When his son is
killed by the British he
revenges himself on the soldiers, killing them
in frenzy of bloodshed. His
other sons are witnesses to a fury they've
never seen in their father. His
eldest finally learns the story of his father's
past: coming upon
slaughtered settlers, including depraved acts
on the bodies of woman and
children, Benjamin and his compatriots take
their revenge on the enemy by
slowly torturing them to death and sending
their body parts to the French
and Cherokee camps. For the rest of his life
Benjamin hears their screams
and sees their faces. He tells his son "Not a
day goes by when I don't ask
for forgiveness for what I did."

Dramatic heroes are drawn with more
dimension when the writer gives them
a flaw which deepens their character. In James
Ellroy's L.A. Confidential
Bud White is known as a thug on the Los Angeles
Police Department. He beats
up perpetrators, intimidates criminals who
evade their charges and sends
threatening postcards to those he's helped
incarcerate. But White has his
standards. The men he pulverizes are wife
beaters. It is his attempt to shut
out the nightmares of being a sixteen-year old
boy handcuffed for a week in
a room with the rotting corpse of his murdered
mother. After White's father
is paroled for the killing, this detective
can't help but exorcise his
demons every time he encounters a man who's hit
a woman.

Even a one-dimensional character such as
Superman shows his physical
weakness in the face of Kryptonite.
Dramatically speaking, this weaken state
widens the Man of Steel's choices. He is no
longer invulnerable and must act
with more cunning if he is to overcome
obstacles. A flaw makes a character
more interesting because it demands more of him
or her.

Creating The Flaw

Before an author creates a detailed plot,
it is a good idea to work out
a character's background. By creating a flaw at
this point, the author can
more easily determine how the hero will act in
the yet-to-be determined
plot. James N. Frey, in his book The Key, How
to Write Damn Good Fiction
Using the Power of Myth (St. Martins), breaks
down a character's background
as physical, sociological and psychological.
The flaw can be in any one or
all of these dimensions. Wherever the author
chooses to create the flaw, it
will by necessity affect the other facets of
the character's personality.

Let's create a heroine named Abby. Abby has
an obvious physical defect.
She was born without ears. As Abby grows up,
her schoolmates make fun of
her-so to prove her attractiveness, she becomes
promiscuous (psychology).
Abby's mother tries to help her child and sends
her away to a boarding
school to give her a fresh start. In this
all-girl environment, Abby
realizes her worth is based on who she is, not
what she looks like
(sociology). Abby goes on to become a
world-class fashion designer. At what
point the author wants to tell a story which
involves Abby will determine
how the flaw affects her decisions.

If the story is told as an adult, the
author might have Abby involved in
the life of a beautiful model. If Abby loses a
boyfriend to the model, she
might fall into despair, but because she is a
dramatic heroine, she'll
prevail and her experience of having dealt with
her physical flaw has
toughened her enough to vent her pain into her
work. The model gains weight,
loses the boyfriend and commits suicide. The
boyfriend, now impressed with
Abby's growing fame as a designer, wants her
back. In conflict, Abby will
have to decide between her career and the man
she once loved. There are many
factors that will affect her decision, but they
will all be rooted in her
understanding of the nature of beauty.

Flaws Not Faults

The flaw is not a fault, but rather a scar.
A character who is raped is
not flawed in the sense of being damaged goods,
but suffers from the event
in a way which will affect her future choices.
The flawed protagonist can be
victimized but can never be a victim.

The flaw can be developed from a family
trait, failure or blindspot
which renders the character in denial. The
stubbornness of Scarlett O'Hara
can be traced to her temperamental father who
mounts a horse, chases after
the Yankees, tries to jump a fence and is
killed. In Henrik Ibsen's Ghosts
Mrs. Alving must live with the sins of her
husband-a son going insane from
syphilis, and an illegitimate daughter. Jason
in Greek myth marries a woman
who killed her own brother-why is he surprised
when she kills his children?
In modern dramatic fiction it is nearly always
the case that the hero
overcomes the drawback and learns a lesson.
When the hero doesn't transcend
the failure, the story becomes a tragedy.

Authors can use the specter of failure to
infuse their plots with more
conflict for the hero. A protagonist whose
father is a serial murderer
brings baggage that is not his or her fault,
but this character's actions
will be judged in light of the father. Ghosts
of the past affect the present
or threaten the future. Haunted people and
haunted events give a history to
the setting and allow the reader to grasp the
hero's internal and external
struggles. Heathcliff would be an amoral
sociopath without our understanding
of his abusive childhood. Dr. Frankenstein is a
run-on-the-mill mad genius
without his passion to 'banish disease from the
human frame." Gatsby could
be another spoilt millionaire except that we
know his past poverty and
discipline which earned him his fortune and
gives the reader insight into
his present actions. Regardless of what story
the author may choose to tell,
this kind of flawed protagonist adds depth to
the plot.

Why Have A Flaw

No, it is not strictly necessary that a
protagonist have a flaw. Santa
Claus has no overweening flaws. Teen detective
Nancy Drew is near perfect as
are most child protagonists and classical
romantic heroines-Harper Lee's
Scout in To Kill A Mockingbird and
Shakesphere's Juliette for example. Even
James Bond never seems to ponder his upbringing
(though some might make a
case for his womanizing being a latent flaw).
While the average person might
fantasize about being Juliette or Bond, not
many of us have sincere empathy
for them.

The perfect person is too untouchable to
create a character who readers
identify with, except as escapism in the case
of James Bond. In fact, the
perfect character, who is most often seen on
television, frequently becomes
an object of ridicule. Consider Cordelia, the
perfect cheerleader type on
Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, or Billy Thomas on
Ally McBeal. They are so
perfect that we find ourselves delighting in
their mistakes and hoping that
they fail. Both characters were invigorated
once viewers were shown their
flaws and Cordelia even flourished on another
series.

The flaw can bond the reader to the
character. Lajos Egri points out in
The Art of Creative Writing (Carol Pub.) that
"Identification can be
established easily if the characters create
emotions which we recognize at
once," and notes that emotions are the
"invisible chain, linking man to man
all over the globe." We needn't know what it is
to be without ears to know
how humiliation feels. Unless we've lived
sheltered lives, most of us were
taunted for one reason or another as children.
Our humiliation probably led
to anger, so we understand when the hero fights
back. It's even expected,
though we, ourselves, might have cowered and
given up during our humiliating
experience. Identifying with a triumphant hero
might often be the only way
readers can vicariously live the victory of
overcoming their own personal
flaws.